Family
by Sila Ninque
Summary: WAS ENTITLED HER SECRET. When Terry reveals to Don that she's going to have a baby, he decides it's his duty to make them a family.
1. Default Chapter

This darling little plot bunny is going to be rabbit stew if it ever dares to bite after nine o'clock again. This idea is solely MissCongeniality's, and I would like to really thank her for that, because it provided a nice respite from the norm. I hope it goes over well. Just a last little note, I'd planned on this being a one-shot, but if anyone really wants to see a continuation on it, let me know, and I'll see what I can do, okay?

**Disclaimer**: I really don't own the show, but I really really wish I did…I also own only half of the only OC in this fic, Kylie Jackson, who is also the brain child of my friend Tabby, and I really hope she doesn't mind me borrowing her again. :)

**Dedication**: This is dedicated to all Don and Terry fans, but mainly to MissCongeniality for providing the awesome plot bunny. It was tons of fun to write, and I hope it is an okay read. Thanks for the idea!

Secrets 

"Terry's late. Terry's _never_ late. What's going on?" I storm into the office, glaring at the clock on the wall as if daring it to tell the wrong time, then check my watch to be sure that the clock is correct. "She was supposed to be here at eight. It's nine now, what is her _problem_?"

"Don, would you relax?" Agent Kylie Jackson, the newest addition to my team, glances up from the mound of paperwork in front of her. After studying me for several long moments, she pulls the I-pod cords from her ears and sets the tiny player aside. "I'm sure it's explainable. Maybe she got caught in traffic. Maybe she got held up somewhere. Did you try to call her?"

I feel a disbelieving look form on my face and Kylie shrugs in answer. "Of course I did!" I exclaim. "I've called her house, I've called her cell, then I called both again, and she's not answering any of them."

"There's got to be a reason." Kylie tucks strands of soft dark blonde hair behind one ear and gives me another sunny smile, but it falters slightly, and that doesn't help to erase my convictions. David, who has been downstairs doing something important for the last half-hour, chooses that moment to arrive.

"Hey, everybody…Terry's still not here?"

I throw my hands up in frustration. "See? Something's going _on_."

"Don, Terry is a competent, trained agent. I'm sure she can handle anything anyone throws her way. Just…trust her." David tries to smooth over the waves his question has created.

"I'm getting worried." I confess, dragging a hand down my face and tapping a pencil against the desktop with my other hand. "She's never late."

Just as I'm about to get in my car and actually drive to her apartment, the elevator doors ding and slide open. A disheveled, harried Terry steps inside the room, heels clicking smartly on the floor. Her purse dangles precariously from one elbow and she is clutching a disorderly stack of folders to her chest.

"Terry!" I hurry across the room, remembering just in time not to throw my arms around her slim shoulders. "Where have you _been_?"

"I wasn't feeling very well, I'm sorry. I think I ate something last night that didn't sit well…then the traffic was awful and I almost hit someone on the freeway and then--" She rambles, obviously nervous.

"Why didn't you pick up your phone?" I turn her toward her desk and follow her as she makes her way there.

"My home phone line is down and my cell is dead. I'm sorry." She apologizes again. "It's just been one of those mornings."

"Don't worry, it's alright. Are you okay? You look really tired…maybe you should go home and rest." I study her, taking in the dark circles beneath her normally bright eyes.

"No, I'm fine, I've already screwed up the schedule for this morning. Where am I supposed to be?" By this time, we've reached her desk. She secures her purse in one of the drawers and drops the pile of folders onto the desktop.

"If you're sure you're up to it, we could use you in interrogation, but I really think—"

"I'm okay, Don." She gives me what she's obviously hoping is a reassuring smile, but even that looks tired and strained to me. I swallow a sigh as she scoops up one of the files and bolts for the elevator, hoping to avoid any more conversation.

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It's been nearly two weeks since that morning, and Terry hasn't calmed down much. In fact, if her behavior all day today is any indication, she's gotten worse. She obviously isn't sleeping well, she doesn't eat much, she's nervous and edgy, and I've caught her several times staring blankly into space…very un-Terry-like.

I have tried and tried to get her to open up and talk to me, but she simply brushes me off. Last Friday night, that was what set off one of our worst arguments ever. The evening started off innocently enough, just a trip to Fazoli's and then back to my apartment with a rented movie, but by the end of the night, she had lapsed into a brooding silence and I was fed up with it.

_Friday Night, 1:35 a.m._

"_Terry, you know you can talk to me, right?" I sigh and lean back against the couch cushions, bringing her with me._

"_I said I didn't want to talk about it, Don." She replies, folding her arms protectively around herself. We sit in silence for a few minutes, her trying to avoid the conversation and I trying to figure out how to press it._

"_I'm not trying to pressure you, I just don't like seeing you like this." I finally defend myself, holding up my hands in a gesture of surrender. She chuckles, but it sounds fake and strained._

"_Like what?" _

"_Like…this. You're quiet, you're moody, you're distracted, you don't want to talk to anyone, you're on a short fuse, you're…"_

"_I get the point." She growls, staring stubbornly at the TV screen. I catch her jaw in my hand, turn her face, and brush her lips with mine. _

"_Talk to me. I'm getting worried."_

"_What do you have to be worried about?" She pulls away. _

"_What do you mean? I'm worried about you! I love you, Terry! I hate seeing you like this. It scares me."_

"_You have no idea what it's like to be scared, Don! No idea!"_

"_Terry, I'm scared all the time. I'm scared when we go out on the field, I'm scared that something will happen to you or to Charlie when we're working, I'm scared that—"_

"_That's not what I'm talking about! That's different!"_

"_What's different? What are you talking about?" I've never been so confused and worried in all my life. _

"_You don't understand. You can't possibly understand!"_

"_Terry, listen to yourself! It's no wonder I'm worried about you! This doesn't even sound like you! This isn't anything like you…"_

"_You don't have any idea—" She shouts, jumping to her feet, but I interrupt her._

"_Maybe I would, if you would tell me!" I feel awful when I realize that I'm yelling back at her. I've never shouted at her in all our time together, not when we were dating at the Academy, not since we'd started dating again eight months ago. _

_And then, just as suddenly as it started, her violent mood is over. She drops back to the couch beside me and buries her face in my shoulder, taking a few long, deep breaths. I freeze for a moment, then pull her into a gentle embrace, whispering nonsense words into her hair and running a comforting hand up and down her back._

_She doesn't cry, but then, I don't expect her to. _

Now I stand at the doorway of our office, watching her as she bends over the desk reading a file, her blonde hair falling from its untidy ponytail and brushing the sides of her face. She winds a strand around her finger and flips the page, and I take a small amount of comfort in the smirk that spreads across her lips. Whatever she's reading, it must be good.

Glancing at my watch, I realize that it's nearly nine o'clock. I haven't eaten all day, and I know she hasn't, either, so I hurry across the half-lit room to lean over her shoulder. "What are you working on?"

"Going over the files from the Stimmel case." She replies. I reach over her and gently close the folder. "It'll be there in eleven hours when you get back. Let's go get something to eat, okay?"

"Only if you're buying." She grins.

"Always." I take in her smile, all too rare these days, and head for my desk. "I have to get my keys, I'll be right back."

By the time I locate the keys and return to her, she's talking on the phone. "Are you _sure_? No chance of a mistake? How long?" She sighs and wraps her free arm around her middle. "Okay. Okay, yes, I'll be there...Friday at eight. Thanks." She closes the phone and draws a shaky breath. "Don, can I take a raincheck on dinner? I…I need to get home."

"Sure, Terr. No problem." I can see…_something_—fear, worry, something—in her eyes. I'm getting that scared lump in my chest again. "Let me drive you home."

"I'll be fine to drive."

"Please, just…let me do this, okay? To make me feel better?"

She shrugs. "Okay, then."

Once we're in my car, headed for her apartment, I give her a sidelong glance. "Who was on the phone?"

"No one." She avoids my gaze by staring out the dark window at the gentle droplets of rain that chase each other down the glass.

I'm about to snap a response when I catch a glimpse of her face. I'm sure it's not a trick of the light—her eyes are brimming with tears. My heart breaks, and I swallow my words. Obviously, she needs some time alone. And, as much as it hurts me, I'm going to give it to her. I pull to the curb at the front of her apartment building and turn to her. "When you feel better, would you give me a call?"

"'Course." She reaches out to touch my face, cupping my cheek in her cold hand. "I love you, Don. Remember that." And before I can answer, she throws open her door and darts out into the rain. I watch her until she disappears into the elevator in the lobby. Then I turn around and head home, where I curl up on the couch and nurse a beer, trying to focus on a random movie on TV and waiting for the phone to ring.

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I don't know when I fell asleep, but I do know that when the phone rings, the sky outside my living room window is beginning to lighten. I scoop up the phone and press it to my ear. "Eppes."

"Don? It's me. Could you come over here for a while?" Terry's voice is shaky and choked. She's been crying, I can tell, and that scares me more than anything. Terry doesn't cry.

"I'm on my way." All my questions can wait, I decide, as I hang up my phone and reach for my car keys. At least she called early enough that I can beat the traffic. With that semi-cheerful thought in mind, I make my way down to my parking space and peel away, my tires making a bloodcurdling screech and shattering the silence of the morning.

I drive nearly sixty all the way to her apartment, subconsciously praying under my breath the entire way. Whatever it is she has to tell me, it's not good, and I'm not sure that I'm ready to hear it. When I pull up to the building, however, I don't hesitate to hurry inside and take the elevator up to her floor.

Outside apartment 4C, I rap on the door, and she opens it immediately. She must have been pacing right on the other side.

She looks terrible, but I manage to bite my tongue before unwisely saying so. The circles beneath her pretty eyes are darker than ever, her dark eyes are red-rimmed and swollen from her tears, and she's still wearing the clothes she had on at work yesterday. Stepping inside and shutting the door gently behind me, I waste no time in pulling her into my arms. She doesn't argue, just falls against me and wraps her arms around my waist.

For a long while, I hold her, letting her collect her thoughts and make the first move. Finally, she pulls away and tips her head back to meet my gaze. "Don, I've got something to tell you."

I sink down onto her white couch, pulling her onto my lap and holding her eyes. "Go ahead."

"You're not going to like this." She warns, winding her hands together in her lap.

"I can handle it." I promise, though I'm not nearly as sure as I sound. I catch her hands in mine and hold them. She breaks eye contact and, instead, looks down to study our twined hands. I rub my thumbs in tiny circles over the backs of her hands, trying to offer her any comfort I can.

Suddenly, she blurts out, "I'm pregnant."

My hands stop cold. "You're…you're what?"

"I'm going to have a baby." She repeats in a whisper, avoiding my eyes.

"You—me—a _baby_?" I cry, hardly daring to believe it.

"Of course you and me." She sounds a little hurt, maybe thinking that I thought the baby would be someone else's. "It usually takes two to _make _a baby, Don."

The realization starts to hit fully. I'm going to be a father. _This_ is what she's been hiding? _This_ is what she was afraid to tell me? I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me, falling back on the couch. "Terry, we're going to be parents!" I exclaim, overjoyed.

"You're not angry?" She asks, bracing her forearms on my chest and levering herself up to finally meet my gaze.

"God, no! Terry, we're going to have a baby! I've never been so thrilled in my life." I laugh and pull her down for a kiss. Then something occurs to me. "Are _you_ okay with this?"

"Well, I'm really getting worried about our jobs. I mean, keeping the fact that we were dating a secret was one thing, but _this_? I don't know…"

The thought sobers me for a moment. "We'll figure something out." I promise. "We'll make it work. I swear it." I wrap my arms around her again. It's all beginning to make sense now…her fatigue, her mood swings, her nervousness. "How far along are you?"

"Just at the end of my twelfth week, I guess." She replied. "That's what the doctor told me last night."

"So _that's_ who was on the phone." I lean up to press my forehead to hers. "Do you want this? Do you want to keep it?"

"Not without you." She whispers.

"I'm in if you are. I can't think of anyone else I'd want to have my children."

Her eyes fill with tears, and I realize that her emotionalism is something I'm going to have to get used to—at least for the next six months. I smile before I kiss her again, slow and gentle, pouring everything I have into it and trying to let her know _exactly_ what I think of her and our future together. She responds the same way, and I find myself marveling over what a single kiss can express.

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"Dad, Charlie…" I can feel Terry's hands in mine behind my back, and she gives them a little squeeze for encouragement. We've already called her mother in Miami, and she gave us a very long-winded congratulatory speech and demanded that Terry call her with each new update. "I will be there when my granddaughter is born." She announced. We had put Terry's phone, now fixed, on speakerphone so that all of us could participate in the conversation.

"Mom, we don't know what the baby is yet…" Terry had argued, rolling her eyes.

"Nonsense!" Her mother exclaimed.

Terry assures me after we disconnect, "She'll love it no matter what it is. If it's a boy and you dare to mention that she wanted a girl, she'll pronounce you scandalous."

Now it's time to face _my_ family. "I've—_we've—_got something to tell you."

My father regards me suspiciously, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. He's probably already putting the pieces together. Charlie, on the other hand, looks as lost as ever. I pull Terry around to my side, laying a protective hand in the small of her back. "Terry and I…we're going to have a baby."

Disbelief clouds Charlie's eyes, but Dad leans forward, studying us incredulously. "A baby?"

I swallow and nod. "Yes."

He scrutinizes us for several more moments before a grin explodes across his face. "My God, it's a miracle! I was beginning to wonder if I'd _ever_ get any grandchildren!" He laughs and hops up, crossing the room to embrace both of us. "I can't believe it."

"Wait a second…" Charlie's dark eyes flicker from Terry to me and back again. "You two…"

"Yes, Charlie, us two." I smirk at him and pull Terry closer to my side. My brother's eyes continue to process us for a few more minutes, and then he beams as well.

"Congratulations!" He exclaims.

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By the time we arrive back at my apartment at twelve-thirty that morning, Terry looks dead on her feet and I know I can't be far behind. We can barely find the drive to take quick showers and change before collapsing onto my bed. Even so, I muster up the energy to pull her to me, her back to my chest, and wrap my arms around her middle, picturing the life growing inside of her. She threads her fingers through mine and nestles close. I can smell the shampoo and soap from her shower, as well as the detergent she'd used to wash her pajamas. I place a kiss at the nape of her neck. "I love you, Terry Lake." I mumble against her skin.

"Love you too, Don." She whispers back, and this time, I hear a smile in her voice when she says it. With that, I drop off to sleep, a smile lingering on my lips.

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Yes, it's two o'clock in the morning and I _should_ be working on Not So Far, but thanks to MissCongeniality, my #1 fan ;) , this plot bunny bit me at eleven o'clock tonight and refused to allow me to sleep until it was finished. This may not be my best work, but I tend to get _extremely _fluffy late at night…and I'd say this probably qualifies. If you're reading this, you probably read the fic, and I thank you for that. Now I'm going to go to bed before I start to really ramble.

Thanks, everyone!Sila


	2. Chapter 2

It's a miracle—bet you all thought I forgot about this, huh? Well, I didn't, and here it is. By the way, if anyone has any ideas for baby names, I'm having a bit of trouble picking one out. I have yet to decide whether it'll be a boy or girl, as well. Give me suggestions, I'm open!

**Disclaimer: **

**Caveman Bob:** She no own show. She make no money. That all.

**Dedication**: Dedicated to everybody who wanted me to continue—thanks for the encouragement!

Now, onto the chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

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"My God, I can't believe how much weight she's gaining. She used to be so _slim_. I wonder what's been happening?" A giggle punctuated these words. The voice was loud, harsh, and unwelcome. I sigh and lean forward, trying to focus on the file in my hand. That's the problem with trying to get anything done in the cafeteria—everybody is so _loud_. These two chattering women in the booth behind me are prattling and giggling like a couple of high-school teenagers, and I'm about to head back up to my desk without my lunch—I'm not that hungry anyway—when I hear the rest of their conversation.

"She's such a pretty girl, too. What's her name…Tammy, Tracy, Tabitha…" One of them wonders.

"Terry. I think it's Terry. She works with Don Eppes."

"Yes, that's right. Such a shame…if _I_ worked for that man, I'd be spending all my waking hours at the gym, making sure I looked no less than perfect at all times. She's wasting a perfectly good chance. He's beyond sexy."

Shock and anger glue me to my seat. I can't believe what I'm hearing. But they're not finished yet—

"Do you think she might be—" Here the girl lowers her voice, but not enough. "pregnant? She's really starting to look it."

"_Pregnant?_" The other girl snorts. "Her? Please. I really doubt it. I mean, she's pretty enough, but she doesn't really look like the type to…get much action, do you think?"

My stomach tightens.

"Hmm, you never know." There's a short pause, then she sighs. "I should be getting back upstairs, Marie. Call me tonight and we'll go out this weekend, okay?"

"Sure." Marie replies cheerfully. "'Bye, Jamie."

I wait until I hear Marie's heels click away as well before I rise shakily and hurry back up to the sanctity of the office, tossing the rest of my chicken-salad sandwich into the trash on the way. Suddenly, I've lost my appetite.

As I enter the office, Terry takes one look at me and hurries over to question, "What's wrong, Don?"

"Nothing." I smile reassuringly, trying to advert my eyes from her slightly swollen belly. Usually, the sight fills me with joy, but the thought of what she's going to have to endure over the next five months makes my stomach turn. I want to wrap my arms around her and promise to take all the pain and heartache coming away for her. "Just tired."

"Okay, if you're sure." She tells me, studying me with some degree of concern.

"I am. Thanks, though." With a final quick smile, I duck back to my desk and bury my nose in the file.

By the time I re-emerge, the floor is nearly empty. Apparently, even Terry has left. I'm a little hurt that she went without a good-bye, but maybe she did stop by. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in things I forget to notice what's going on around me.

I glance at my watch (nearly seven-thirty) and rise, stretching. That's when I notice that I'm not alone after all—Terry _is_ still here, fast asleep atop her arms, which are folded on her desktop. I smile fondly and check to make sure the room really is empty before hurrying over to brush a kiss on her temple. "Hey, baby, wake up. Come on, let's get you home."

She blinks wearily. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven-thirty. How are you holding up?"

"I'm tired. And I'm starving. But other than the usual, just great." She leans back in her chair and gives me a smile. "Hard to believe, this, isn't it?" She asks as she folds her hands over her stomach.

"It still is, yeah." I agree, moving around behind her to rub at her shoulders and the back of her neck. Lately, though she hasn't said anything, I can see that the weight is really getting to her. She moves more stiffly and slowly, she's always trying to stretch her back out, and she's sitting a lot more often. "Are you too tired for dinner, or do you want to go get something?"

"Dinner would be wonderful." She confesses, melting beneath my touch. "I swear, Don, you should have become a masseuse."

"Doesn't pay as good. Plus, they don't give you a gun." I tell her, and I'm rewarded with a chuckle.

"You'd better cut that out, or we'll never get out of here."

I move around her to pull her to her feet and wrap a companionable arm around her shoulders. "So, where are we going, Agent Lake?"

"I don't know…anything sound good to you?" She asks, sliding an arm around my back for balance.

"Nah, you're the one with the weird food cravings lately."

"Hey, banana ice cream is _not_ weird. And neither are pickles." She protests good-naturedly, giving me a hard poke in the ribs. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Not at the same time, I hope."

She rolls her eyes and gives me a half-hearted swat. "Fine, just for that, we're going to Fazoli's."

"_Again_?" I groan, but it's in jest, and she knows it. "We ate there _five times_ last week!"

"What's your point, Donny?"

I glare at her. "How come you're the only one who can make that nickname sound unpleasant?"

"It's a gift." She steps onto the elevator and leans back against the wall.

"I hear you." I pretend to mutter. She smirks at me.

The rest of the elevator ride and the car ride are in companionable silence. Once we're seated side-by-side in a red plastic booth, she leans over to me—her elbows on the table, her chin on her fists—"Something bothering you?"

I realize that I've been staring at the tabletop for a good long while and glance up to meet her eyes. "Nope, just lost in thought." I don't have the heart to tell her about what happened in the cafeteria today.

She leans back and studies me. "Okay…" then she sighs. "We need to talk."

"About what?" My stomach tightens again. She looks so serious.

"People are noticing, Don. I won't be able to hide it much longer. In another month, this," She gestures to her belly, "will be so noticeable that people are going to start asking who the father is."

_Aha_. I have a short lightbulb-over-the head moment, then lean over to brush a kiss against her cheek. "And you're asking what we should do about it?"

She nods. "I'm going to quit."

If I'd been sitting in a chair, I would have knocked it over backwards in my shock. Instead, my body settles for knocking over my soda. When that's cleaned up, I meet her eyes again. "You can't do that."

"And why not?" There's a fire, one I recognize as challenge, in her eyes.

"Terry, you love your job! Of everyone who's ever deserved to be an FBI agent, you make the top ten list. That's not fair to you."

"But if I _keep_ my job, we'll have to keep living like this. Pretending I don't care about you. Keeping the best thing that's ever happened to me—carrying your child—a secret. Do you know what happened to me today?"

Surprised by the abrupt change in conversation, I stammer, "What?"

"One of the girls on the fourth floor asked me when I was due." She says it so matter-of-factly and steadily, but I can see the hurt and the concern in her eyes.

"What did you tell her?"

"I asked 'due for what'? I probably horrified the poor girl to no end." She smiles at the memory. "Don, if they find out, we're likely to _both_ be fired."

Again, I start to protest, but she reaches down and catches my hand, then presses it to her cheek. I love the feel of her skin beneath my knuckles. "Let's not worry about it now, okay? Promise me you'll think about it, that's all I need."

I nod. "One question." I press. "If you quit, what are you going to do?"

"For work, you mean?" She leans back again, closing her eyes, her hand still in mine. "I have a sizable savings account right now. I'd like to be a homemaker for a while. For twelve years as a child, that's all I wanted to be. My friends all wanted to be doctors, lawyers, bankers, chefs, whatever. They laughed at me, but I wanted to be a mom."

My heart melts, and I remember all over again why I love her so much. "Why didn't you?"

She opens her eyes, smiling shyly at me. "The right guy never came along."

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There's chapter two. Shorter, but there's some GREAT fluffily stuff on the way. I promise.

**Review Replies!**

Citygirl928: Awe, thanks. /Blushes furiously/ When MissCongeniality gave me the plot bunny, it took up immediate residence in the "to write" list. And now he won't leave! But I'm kind of glad, it's really nice to break from the angst once in a while and do some fun and fluffy stuff…this chapter wasn't quite as fluffy, unfortunately, because there are some work-related issues that must be dealt with before the full onslaught of fluff. But it's coming with the speed of a freight train, I promise. :D

SD: Thanks so much! I should never have read these awesome reviews tonight, I'm going to go to work blushing so much I'll look like a tomato. I'm so glad you liked it so well…Thanks again, and I really appreciate all of your awesome reviews.

EclecticTrekker: Wow, I don't know if I deserve all that. You're way too nice and _way_ too good to me. Your review made me squeal out loud and I had to call my best friend (who was at my house at the time) over to read it, "Look! Look at that, Lish, somebody wrote that about my story! MY story!" She was impressed, but I don't think it reached to her at the same level it did to me. You have no idea how happy you made me. Thanks so much.

JadedMoment: Thanks for the review! I'm so glad you liked it, your opinion is invaluable to me. Well, it _was_ a one-shot, but some people asked for more, so I appeased them. :D Kylie is fitting in nicely around here, isn't she? I think we did a pretty good job, Tabby. People seem to like her. That makes me really happy…she's a fun character to write, though a little bit harder because I'm so used to the sarcasm and sharp retorts of Terry and Sara (from CSI) and the like. But the challenge is FUN! Thanks for your input, hon. I miss you, try to catch me on Yahoo sometime!

MissCongeniality: Hey, I don't deserve all the credit, it was your way-awesome idea! So thank _you, _thank you, thank you! It was so much fun to write. You know, I hadn't thought of it that way, but maybe you're right about the sequel idea. Although, depending on if I keep some of the ideas I have for the epilogue, it might not work smoothly. Maybe I'll work it out. Thanks again for the totally cool idea. Kylie will be making appearances in future chapters, as well…the girls have to hang together, don't they? Hmm… "I love you"'s Probably. Probably lots of them. I can't help myself. As my brother would say, "Dude, do they even have a name for what' wrong with you?" Anyway, back on topic—thanks again, and I hope you liked this chapter too, despite the slightly disappointing lack of fluff. It's coming.

kippling croft: Thanks. I know, I wish so too. Unfortunately, it's hard to have Don/Terry moments when there's no Terry. /Sigh/ They need to fix that. Thanks for the review!

Steph36: Thank you very much! It's nice to know my work is appreciated and that I have people out there cheering for me to continue. Thanks a lot for your encouragement.

pkw: Thank you so much. You know, I am a ROYAL sucker for shipfic myself, which is why everything I write turns into shipfic. ;) Thanks for the encouragement, and I hope this chapter is as good as the last.

Piccolo Chic: Awe, thanks. And yes, I am definitely continuing…at least one or two more chapters after this one. I'm so glad you're enjoying Not So Far, I'm actually sad that it's nearly over. But there will be lots more drama-type Don/Terry fics from me in the future, worry not. :) Thanks for the review and the sweet encouragement.

Cora Clavia: Ha, I loved that quote! I want to get a keychain or a notebook or something that says that! "Sleep is for the weak. The intelligent, perhaps, but the weak." /Laughs some more/ Trust me, I know exactly what you mean. I tend to write a lot more "sleepy scenes" in when that's how I'm feeling. /Shrugs/ My brain controls my pen. What my brain thinks, my pen writes. It's simple, really. :D Thanks for the awesome, hilarious review. And PLEASE update your own stories soon, too, because I'm dying to find out what happens!

MissCongeniality: Awe, you're so sweet. Yes, I am definitely writing more of this, and I'm enjoying it immensely. I know what you mean, though, about the account thing. Finding a penname is insanely impossible around here. Anyway, thanks for the encouragement, and good luck in your search.

P.S. I was wondering that myself. COME BACK, M. MARCHAND! WE MISS YOU!

mizukimarr910: I know what you mean about fluffy cravings. They're worse than potato chip cravings! Two a.m. is my best writing time, too. :D Anyway, help yourself to my plot bunnies. I've got a few thousand too many.

Nix707: Awe, thanks. You're sweet…I'm so glad you liked it. They are DEFINITELY meant to be together…if SL hadn't left the show, ten bucks says they would have hooked up by the third season. /Sigh/ What a pain. Thanks again, you're so sweet.

coloradoavsgirl: Gee, thanks…I'm so glad you liked it. And I am definitely adding more, so don't worry about that. Thanks so much for your sweet words.

**Well, thanks so much for everything. I'm out now, but more will be coming soon. I finally have a phone line again/Dances/ See you all soon. **


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, I know you all saw this one coming. This chapter is from Terry's point-of-view, just because it's extremely hard to write about one's pregnancy from someone else's point of view. Try it sometime. I challenge you. D And a warning, this chapter is LONG. Sorry, but the fluff just wouldn't stop. I really should stop writing at three in the morning.

NEW GAME! There's a quote borrowed from somewhere hidden in the chapter. If you can find it, tell me what it is and where it came from, you get a big box of e-cookies and next chapter dedicated to you. Fun, huh? Humor me! ;)

**Disclaimer:** Sings La la laaaaaaaaaaaaa…don't own, please don't suuuuuuue me….I can't pay because I'm just a poor almost-college student that can't even pay for her colllllllllllllllege education……

**Dedication**: This is to all of you who wished to see Don 'do SOMETHING to' (Thanks, Denaliyasha!) Marie and Jamie (the cafeteria girls) last chapter. You really thought I would pass up an opportunity like _that? _LOL, just you wait.

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Each child is an adventure into a better life, an opportunity to change the old pattern and make it new. _Hubert H. Humphrey_

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"Lake, get to my office. Eppes, you too. Now." Merrick barks as he storms past my desk, looking mad enough to spit nails. I send Don a confused glance, which he counters with one that clearly says, _What did you do this time?_

I give him a quick exasperated look and follow our unhappy boss down the hall, trying to avoid the half-sympathetic, half-curious stares of our fellow workers. When we're safely locked behind the heavy oak door of Merrick's inner sanctum, he gestures to a pair of grey upholstered chairs standing before the imposing desk. "Have a seat, Agents."

We do as he commands, being careful not to look at each other. My stomach is sinking through the floor and my face is flaming; I must look like a flamingo. I can feel Merrick's eyes on me.

"I've gotten a disturbing report this morning." Somehow, I just know he's talking to me.

"A report?" I haven't been on the field for over a month, since the night I told Don I was thinking about quitting, and I haven't had an argument worth reporting with anyone recently. That leaves only one option for this, and I'm not liking it.

"Yes, Lake." He snarls. "Stand up."

"Sir?" I blink, surprised.

"Stand _up_, Agent Lake!"

I do, and my heart falls even more as I look down at myself. At just under nineteen weeks into my pregnancy, it's getting painfully obvious what the 'report' my boss received was concerning.

"Okay, I think my point has been made. You may take your seat." He folds his hands on the desktop. "But that's only half of it." He says as his knowing gaze shifts between Don and me.

A thousand words that would horrify my mother cross my mind. I feel like bursting into tears. I _knew_ I should have quit when I had the chance. If he fires Don, too, I'll never forgive myself.

Don is more level-headed than I am, though. Thinking fast, he speaks up, "Really? What else is there?"

"Don't play with me, Eppes. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Don meets Merrick's gaze squarely for far too long. A silent battle of wills ensues, and I do my best to stay out of it.

Finally, Milner looks away, glancing down to rearrange some papers on his desktop. "I'll be looking into this matter thoroughly. Until such a time as these issues are cleared up, I'll be assigning someone to take temporary control of your unit, Eppes." Don may have won the staring contest, but he can't win this war. However, there is something _I_ can do…

"That won't be necessary, Sir." I'm speaking before I can even realize it.

"Really, Lake? And why would that be?" Surprise makes his eyebrows climb his forehead.

I try to speak, but my voice catches. Clearing my throat, I meet Don's eyes and plead silently for forgiveness for what I'm about to do. His gaze is hard, almost angry, but there's no going back now. "Because…because I'm resigning."

He blinks at me for a few long moments, and I continue, unable to stand the oppressive silence in the office. "I am not confirming or denying your report, sir, though I hardly think that it's relevant now or that it really was before. I am doing this because I believe this is what would be best for me and for my child."

"Do you realize what you're doing?" He asks, dumbfounded. His eyes are wide and practically bulging from his bald head.

I glance down at my hands, clutched together in my lap. "Yes."

He shakes his head at me, and the room is silent again for the longest time. "I won't try to stop you, then." he finally says, rising. Don and I follow his lead. "I'll expect the paperwork tomorrow, Lake." He says, his voice uncharacteristically soft and almost kind as he ushers us out his door.

Once we're in the hall, I find that I've got nothing to say to Don. I avoid his eyes, dropping my gaze to the floor and walking beside him in silence. He's seething, I can almost feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

Outside the door to our section of offices, he suddenly stops and catches my arm. "Clean out your desk and head home." His voice is angry, but softer than I'd expected. "I'll come to your place after work--early--and we'll talk about this."

"I know you're angry with me, Don, I'm sorry, I just had to do something, I wasn't--"

"Terry, stop. Breathe, relax. We'll discuss it later, I promise." His voice drops to a whisper. "I love you…now go, okay? I don't want you to get in any more trouble."

Knowing that he's still angry at me, I sigh, but obey. Twenty minutes later, my desk is clean. As I debate on how to pick up the heavy carton, it's suddenly lifted off the desk by a pair of familiar and strong hands. "I'll carry it." Don says, giving me an exasperated look. "You weren't really thinking about trying to do it yourself, were you? You know what the doctor told you…"

"Yes, Don." I huff teasingly, blowing a strand of hair off my forehead.

"Good." He smiles at me and I follow him to the elevator. Once inside, however, conversation freezes. I can't think of anything to say, and he is stonily silent. I play absently with the buttons on the front of my shirt, he shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

When the doors finally ding open, he exits first, striding across the lobby with a purposeful air. I follow, a knot of fear still tight in my stomach. Once we pass through the wide glass front doors, however, Don stops so suddenly that I nearly crash into him.

"What?" I whisper, glancing around for the reason. All I can see are two young women standing nearby, lit cigarettes dangling from their fingers. However, it seems that they are what has caught Don's attention, and not in a good way. One of them glances up, says something to her partner, and they both drop and grind out their cigarettes before making their way over to us, bringing a strong smell of nicotine with them.

"Hello, Agent Eppes. Hi...Terry, isn't it?"

I nod as Don answers, "Hello, Marie…Jamie."

"We heard what happened this morning. Did you really tell Merrick to go to hell?" The brunette, referred to as Jamie, I assumed by Don's comment, giggles and turns to me.

I gape at her, dumbfounded, cheeks flaming, "Of course not! I'm more professional than that!"

"But you _did_ quit?" The other one, a tall and slim blonde with too much makeup on, asks, smirking.

"Yes, I did."

"Well, how much longer do you have?" Marie asks snarkily, sniggering.

"Sorry?"

"Until the _baby_, silly."

I'm about to give a not-so-nice retort when Don cuts right over me.

"About twenty-one weeks, right, honey?" He asks, giving me a sly wink. I nod, fuming silently. What is he getting at?

He smiles down at me, bending to plant a quick kiss on my lips. The girls in front of us are frozen, looking shocked and scandalized. I'm feeling the same way until I notice the devilish glint in his eyes…the jerk! He's playing with them! Suddenly, I feel like laughing, but I try to conceal it as best I can. Apparently, I pass, because the girls have _no_ idea what's going on.

Finally, one of them--Jamie, the brunette-- moves. "You--you're--her…the…"

Don nods, "Sorry, ladies, but we've got to go, this box is heavy. I'll be taking the weekend off, so I suppose I'll be seeing you on Monday."

With that, he motions for me to lead the way to the car, and I do so, still shaking with mirth. Without explanation, Don drops the carton in the backseat of my car and plants a kiss on my lips. "I love you." He tells me, wrapping his arms around my waist and apparently content to just hold me for a minute.

"I love you too…what was _that_ all about?" I'm bursting with curiosity…obviously there was something more to that story than Don being amused by a couple of airheaded receptionists.

He doesn't answer for a few seconds. Finally, he pulls away from me with a sigh. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

"Okay…" I make sure that my tone lets him know that this isn't over. "Are you really taking the weekend off?"

"Hoping to. I don't think Merrick will give me much problem." he answers thoughtfully.

I nod. "I'm going to run in and say goodbye, then…head back to my apartment, I guess." I force a brave smile, but the numbness is wearing off and realization is hitting me…I have no job. I'm out of work and there's no money coming in from anywhere. I know I told Don that I had a sizable savings account, but not _that_ sizable, and no one is going to want to hire someone that's going to have to turn around in a month and go on maternity leave. There aren't many options now.

Still, I know that I wouldn't take back my decision for the world. Don is in no danger of losing his job now, and that's worth all the pain, hands down.

I follow Don back inside the building, ducking my head as we pass back by Jamie and Marie, knowing that we're the topic of their whispered conversation. I feel piercing gazes burning into my back as I make my way through the door Don holds open for me.

As we step off the elevator back onto our--er, _his_--floor, Don gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze. I offer him a watery smile and square my shoulders. I can do this.

As I step through the doorway, I see David, Kylie, and Charlie all gathered around my now-empty desk, talking quietly between themselves. Don and I make our way over to them.

Kylie catches me in a swift embrace before I even have the chance to say a word. "What am I supposed to do without you, Lake? I'll be overpowered by the testosterone!" She wails teasingly, burying her face in my shoulder, but I can sense that she's genuinely saddened by my leaving.

"It's okay, Ky! You're always welcome to come over to my house and talk out your frustration. Besides, someone's got to keep these trigger-happy idiots in line." I smile, hugging her. In just the few short months she's been with our unit, I've come to wonder how we ever got along without her. She's become the ray of sunshine that's made our team more like family.

"True." She pretends to straighten up and dry her tears. "So how's little Jamie doing?"

I huff. "Oh, haven't you heard? We've moved past Jamie. Too masculine for a girl, too feminine for a boy. At the moment, we're arguing about Alan slash Charles Jr."

"Just what the world needs. Another Charlie." David teases, giving Charlie a not-so-subtle nudge in the ribs. He then ignores Charlie's joking retaliatory shove and turns to me, pulling me from Kylie's arms and into his own. "You take care of yourself and Jamie Charles Allyson Christine."

I chuckle. "I'm impressed that you remember all of those. I will." I promise.

"Good."

Charlie gives me a quick, awkward hug. "It'll be strange not seeing you around here." He pauses for a moment, then smiles shyly. "I'll miss you." In his own sweet way, he has, once again, said just the right thing. I embrace him tightly for a moment, then release him. "I'll see _you_ at dinner tonight." I tell him, blinking back tears.

"I had better go so all of you can get back to work. Work hard; stay safe." I kiss each of them on the cheek, Don included, swing my purse pointedly over my shoulder, and stride out, proud of myself for holding my head up high.

The drive home is hazy. I manage to hold in the tears until I am safely behind my apartment door. Then I curl up on the couch and cry myself to sleep.

I awake to the sound of my phone ringing shrilly. Without opening my eyes, I fumble around the coffee table for my cordless, "Lake." I answer sleepily.

"Hey, beautiful. Were you sleeping?"

"Yeah." I smile groggily.

"Awe, I'm sorry." He says, sounding not at all so. "Listen, I'm on my way to your place. Get dressed."

"Dressed?" I repeat, blinking.

"Yes. As in, put some clothes on that gorgeous body of yours. We have somewhere to be in one hour."

"Where?"

"That's for me to know. I'm almost there; hurry up."

"Dammit, Don! You _know_ I hate it when you do this to me! What am I supposed to wear? Where are we going? Don! Don!"

I curse quietly, jump to my feet, and take off through the living room back to my bedroom, where I rifle through my closet in search of a pair of comfortable maternity jeans and an oversized angora sweater. Pink, of course.

Tugging my sweater over my head with one hand, I use the other to dig through the drawer of my dresser for a pair of black knee-highs, which I tug on under my jeans. Once _that's_ done, it's off to find my mary-janes and then to the bathroom to fix my hair.

Just as I'm putting the finishing touches on my makeup, a knock comes at the front door. Grumbling darkly under my breath, I march off to answer it.

"This had better be good, Donald Eppes, or your--" He cuts me off with a quick kiss and produces a bouquet of lilies from behind his back.

"Lilies? In November?" I ask, delightedly taking them from his hands and hurrying to the kitchen to carefully place them in a vase on the windowsill.

"I'm just that good." He teases, wrapping his arms around me. "You're getting bigger."

"Thank you. You know, that does generally happen when you've got a growing baby inside of you. Not to mention, comments like that do wonders for a girl's ego." I nod, relaxing in his embrace.

"And you're growing more beautiful all the time. Come on, let's go." He releases me and places a hand in the small of my back, guiding me toward the door.

"Where are we _going?_"

"We are going to dinner." He tells me with a secretive little smirk.

"Where?"

"Give up on the third degree, Terry. Just relax and enjoy the ride."

I sigh and do as he says. "Fine, fine."

"Okay…open your eyes." His voice is immensely pleased.

Hesitantly, I do, and I'm greeted with a chorus of, "Surprise!" About thirty or forty people are standing around the room, looking very proud of themselves.

My jaw drops. "I--you--DON!" I exclaim.

He laughs. "I told you!" He exclaims to the nearest person, who turns out to be Kylie. "She thought you knew about it." He tells me.

"No!" I cry, my hands lifting, of their own accord, to cover my mouth as I'm surrounded by laughing family and friends. I hug everyone, then round on Don once more. "You! You knew about this?"

"Of course I knew about this." He says proudly. "It was my idea."

Kylie clears her throat, loudly, and gives him a pointed look.

"Well, Kylie helped. A little. And David, too, I guess." He admits sheepishly, and the pair smirk. "Were you surprised?" Don continues.

"What, my yelling at you wasn't enough of an indication? I am…I'm so shocked." I feel myself tearing up. To stem the flow of emotional tears, I give Don a shove, which sends him stumbling comically into David, and I laugh.

"Told you she was a handful." David comments cheerfully, righting him.

"You don't know a handful." Don retorts, rolling his eyes affectionately. "She's beyond a handful."

"Cake!" My mother appears from the kitchenette, carrying a large cake covered with pink and blue icing roses. Across the top is written, "Good Luck Don, Terry, and Baby."

As my mother cuts the cake up, I gaze around the room. It's decorated in the typical pink-and-blue crepe paper and balloons. The tables are dusted with silver foil cutouts of rocking horses, ABC blocks, and rattles. I trail my hand over them, picking up the tiny particles of foil, and smile, my head still reeling from the shock of it all. For the first time since I found out I was pregnant, I feel like I'm really going to be okay. Maybe…I glance at Don, who has a cup of red punch in one hand and a square of cake in the other. Maybe the three of us are going to be okay after all.

"Terry, Terry, open the presents!" My sister, Lara (whose own son is almost a year old now), makes her way over to me. Nicky leans over from his place on his mother's hip, extending pudgy baby arms to me. I take him and cuddle him for a few moments before handing him back to Lara.

"Okay, okay!" I laugh as Kylie pointedly hands me a colorfully-wrapped box.

A mountain of unisex baby clothes, a bassinette, a stroller, a changing table, a swing, and tons of toys sits before me by the time Don and I have finished unwrapping the pile. My eyes are moist with tears, and I realize that I don't know what to say. As I sit in front of the pile of baby gifts, Don at my side, my family and friends around me, I realize that words aren't necessary. These people--my friends, my family, my coworkers…they already know how deep my feelings run. I try to find words to express my gratitude, but after a few attempts, I give up.

"What is it?" My mother asks to break the silence.

I wrap my arms around my swollen belly, feeling the glow that has settled inside me spread. "It's a girl." I tell them all, but I'm looking at Don. "I just found out this weekend." I say, smiling shyly at him. He grins and kisses my cheek, looking at a loss for words.

My mother laughs, clapping her hands together delightedly. "I was right! Wasn't I right, Lara?" She asks.

Lara nods patiently. "Yes, mother." She chuckles, then rises. "Congrats, Terry. And you, too, Don. I'm sure she's going to be absolutely beautiful. As for this one…" She gestures to the squirming boy on her hip, who yawns, "I need to get him home for his nap. Give me a call sometime, okay?" She leans over to give me a quick kiss on the cheek, which Nicky mimics.

I laugh, "I promise. Bye, Lara."

Two hours later, the hall is clean and everyone has left. I sink wearily into a chair and smile fondly at the leftover cake and pile of baby gifts on the table in front of me.

Suddenly, a thought that hadn't yet occurred to me does so. "Don, where am I going to put all of this? It's never going to fit in my apartment!" I groan, mentally trying to calculate where I can put everything.

"Well..." Don pulls a chair out beside me and sinks into it. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that, actually."

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Hmm…wonder what he's got to say?

Guess you'll just have to wait and see:-D I'm planning on updating this at the end of this month, one more time, and then there'll be a one-month-long hiatus so I can work on my NaNoWriMo novel. Wish me luck, maybe I'll actually win this year!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Review replies, after this, will be posted on my LiveJournal (www. livejournal. com / users / silaninque) Minus the spaces, of course. All reviews left here will be answered individually there…since I just learned last week that we're not really supposed to do individual replies here.

So…final review replies for 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter was hard, too. And I know I said it was going to be the last, but I changed my mind…it was more than long enough to divide into two, maybe three, parts. So here you go!

Disclaimer: Uh-huh. And the fact that I wrote the word disclaimer doesn't tell you anything?

Dedication: Dedicated to the way-cool Astralis, as promised, for nailing the quote last time. Yay!

-Hands Astralis the promised e-cookies-

There's another quote hidden in here. Who can find it? A big fluffy virtual teddy bear (In honor of Valentine's Day) and a special chapter dedication go to the first one to get it!

Her Secret: Chapter 4

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"Well, the thing is, I have this really great apartment…two bedroom, spacious, clean--well, relatively, anyway." I realize that I'm rambling, but she cuts me off.

"Don, what are you saying?"

I take a deep breath and start over. "We could clean out my office and use it as a nursery, if you want."

She falls quiet for a moment, then sighs. "But we live all the way across town from each other. Wouldn't that be kind of a pain, for me to run….oh." She breaks off as I give her a pointed look. "You're asking me to move in with you, aren't you?"

"That was kind of what I was getting at."

She grins. "I'd like that." She says after a moment's thought. "Can we paint the office? Somehow, I don't think broken 70's paneling is what I had in mind for a nursery."

"Definitely. First, though, I think we should worry about getting this stuff out of here." Relieved beyond words to have that problem solved, I motion to the piles of baby supplies everywhere. "Why don't I take the crib and stuff and you handle the clothes and diapers?"

Three hours later, we're standing side by side in the doorway of the soon-to-be-nursery and gazing at the mess. "I haven't really used it in years, you know." I say by way of explanation. "It's just kind of been storage for forever."

She giggles. "Yes, so you've told me. It's fine, it'll give me something to do now."

"Well, let me help you get the heavier stuff out of here." I had cleaned the furniture out years ago, when I'd gotten a real desk at work, so all that was left were piles and piles of boxes everywhere.

Within the hour, we've managed to move everything into the living room, where I sit down on the floor and start going through things. Terry moves into the kitchen and begins sifting through cupboards. "What sounds good for dinner?"

"Macaroni and cheese." I say distractedly. "I think that's all that's left in there right now."

"Romantic." I can almost hear the eye-roll in her words, but I can tell she's smiling. "We'll get groceries soon."

I nod distractedly and continue my task as Terry begins dinner preparations.

Halfway through the third box, I stumble across a blast from my past--an envelope marked Albuquerque, New Mexico. When I open it, the now-tarnished silver ring tumbles into my palm, and I gaze at it for a few moments, feeling a plan formulate in my head. Slipping the ring back into the envelope and stuffing the envelope between the pages of a never-used encyclopedia, I smile to myself as Terry begins to sing softly in the kitchen.

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I enter the apartment quietly, in case she's sleeping. However, it quickly becomes apparent that she's doing no such thing. Following the blaring music, I find her atop a stepladder in the nursery, brushing white paint over the wall. She's managed to pull down all of the broken paneling and haul it out, leaving the wall exposed.

She wears an oversized peach-colored tee shirt and a pair of well-worn overalls. A white bandanna covers her hair, making her look hardly older than a girl herself. White paint streaks her arms and freckles her nose. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch her sing along to the radio in the doorway and paint the walls for a few seconds before I turn the music down.

She glances over her shoulder and pouts. "You're home early."

"Yeah. It looks great in here."

"I was hoping to have it all done before you got home, as a surprise. Be careful, that doorway's wet on this side." She motions to the wood, and I see that, barely inches from my left sleeve, the wood's been painted a soft baby pink.

"Pink and white. Nice." I smile at her and disengage myself before my white shirt becomes pink.

She chuckles. "Pink's my favorite color."

"I knew that." I tell her with a smile.

"So why are you home so early? Not that I'm complaining." She returns her attention to the wall and continues her work.

"We all got to go home early today. We got your replacements, so once we were done with introductions and setup, they gave us the rest of the day off."

"Oh." Her voice is quiet. "What are they like?"

"Colby--Colby Granger--is going to get along really well with David, I can tell already. He's a bit headstrong, I think, and maybe a little overconfident, but he seems like a great guy. Megan Reeves I'm not so sure about yet. She seems a little green to me, but I think she'll be a good worker. She's really sharp and extremely quick-witted." I chuckle. "And she doesn't take garbage from anybody. Reminds me of this agent I had on my team once…she was just too much to handle."

"Careful, there, Eppes. I might be almost five months pregnant and stuck at the top of a ladder, but I could still take you down."

"Why don't I doubt that?" I laugh. "But I know you'd like them, Terry."

"Probably." She replies.

"You'll get to find out on Friday. I've invited the team over."

"Really? David and Kylie, too?"

"Of course." I reply. "And Charlie and Amita and Dad. We'll just make a party out of it."

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Friday, my day off, arrives quickly, bringing the promise of summer on the wind. The group isn't due to arrive until six o'clock, so I drag Terry away from the nursery and pack us a lunch.

"A picnic?" She asks incredulously. "I didn't take you for the picnic type, Eppes."

"Well, I guess I can still surprise you." I reply, tucking the blanket under my left arm before picking up the small cooler with that hand and taking hers with the other. "Let's go."

We stroll in companionable silence through the May sunshine, hand in hand. I let her set the pace--she's been complaining a bit more lately about her back. By the time we reach the park, she's smiling ear-to-ear again, her dark eyes dancing. "This was a great idea, Don. It's so pretty."

"I thought this weather was just too good to pass up." I confess, spreading the tablecloth on the grass and smiling as she sinks down onto it. She stretches out on her back and turns her face to the sunshine.

"It is." She replies, folding her hands behind her head and sighing . "What did you pack? I'm starving."

We eat the sandwiches and chips together, laughing and teasing and talking. Old couples smile as they stroll past us, "See that, Vern? We used to look just like that, did'n we?". Finally, we curl up in the sun and she falls asleep, her head pillowed on my stomach. I toy idly with her hair as I study the sunshine patterns the leaves are leaving on the grass around us. Suddenly, a couple holding hands loosely in that comfortable friends-and-lovers sort of way--one with a very familiar gait--moves down the path next to us. I call out uncertainly, "Charlie?"

The familiar one stops and turns, taking in the sight of us. His companion--Amita, of course--grins as she does the same. "Hey, Don."

"Hey." I give her a nod and prop up on my elbows, careful not to disturb Terry. "What library are you two off to on a day as fine as this?"

"Actually, it's what library we're running away from." Charlie replies sheepishly.

"You are not cutting out on your classes to spend time with your girlfriend, are you?" I ask, trying to keep the grin off of my face. At the reddening of both their faces, I lose the battle to keep a straight face. "You two look like junior high kids caught in the janitor's closet. Don't worry, I won't tell on you." I tease, gesturing to the blanket. Charlie sinks onto it, pulling Amita down with him.

We chat lazily in the sunshine until Amita's laugh causes Terry to stir. The brunette looks horrified, "Oh, I woke you up! I'm sorry."

Terry shakes her head, stretching. "No, it's fine, really. I need to get up. We have to go home and clean up the apartment before you guys show up again tonight anyway."

Amita chuckles. "Don's not much of a housekeeper, huh?"

"You have no idea."

I poke her, and she laughs before rising. "Behave yourselves." I admonish my brother and his companion. They start to rise, but I wave them down. "Keep the blanket. We'll see you tonight." I pick up the cooler and Terry and I start down the path side by side.

"They look more comfortable than they used to." She says conversationally, and I smile.

"Of course they do. They're not doing that blush-and-look-away thing anymore."

She nods. "It's nice to see him so happy. Sometimes I used to worry that--" She continues, but I'm not really listening. Instead, I take the opportunity to look as though I am listening, but I study her instead. Bright, dark eyes dance as she talks. It might be harder for her to walk these days, but her movements are still graceful and steady. She holds her head up with a confidence that's difficult to find in most women, and her smile is as warm and bright as I remember it being ten years ago.

I catch the tail end of her question, "…don't you think?"

"Um…." I reply.

She rolls her eyes. "Do you listen to anything? At all? Ever?" She teases, giving me a shove. "I said, they really look like they're going to last, don't you think?"

I nod, pulling my mind back to the conversation. "I think so."

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The doorbell rings at precisely six o'clock that evening. I open the door, letting the horde of people spill into the living room. David hands me several bags of tortilla chips, and Kylie follows up with a bowl of homemade salsa. Megan, whose light brown hair is pulled back from her face, apparently coming straight form work, hands me grocery bags of soda. "Make sure you have ice--they've been in my car all day." She laughs, then steps aside to let Colby in. He, too, has brought food, a plate of brownies that were definitely not from a store-bought mix. I try to keep the surprise off my face…a single guy who can bake brownies from scratch?

I must not do a good enough job, though, because he laughs heartily at the look on my face. "I had to learn to make something chocolate for a class in college, and I just remembered how to do it. Now that's what I always bring to these sort of digs. You'll get sick of them soon enough."

Megan peels back the wrap and snatches a square. "These are amazing, Granger." She says after swallowing her first bite.

He chuckles. "Thanks."

As I turn to place the plate on the counter, I catch sight of Terry standing in the bedroom doorway, looking slightly uncertain. I set the brownies down and beckon her in. "Terry, this is Colby Granger and Megan Reeves." I introduce smoothly, and she gives me a grateful look. "Colby, Megan, this is my girlfriend, Terry Lake."

Helloes are exchanged before the doorbell rings again. I open the door to find my father, Charlie, and Amita on the other side. Dad is holding a pile of pizza boxes, and Charlie and Amita squeeze past me into the crowded living room. "We helped pay for the pizza." Charlie calls over his shoulder, apparently in explanation of their empty-handedness.

I shake my head at my little brother and his girlfriend, then take the pizza boxes from my father. "You didn't have to do that."

"I have to make sure you're all eating. Chips and brownies do not a dinner make." He replies, surveying the counter behind me.

"I beg to differ." Megan replies, swallowing her final bite. "Those are some seriously good brownies. I could live on them." she wipes her hands on her suit skirt and holds the right one out for my father to take. "I don't think we've met. Megan Reeves."

"Alan Eppes, Donny's and Charlie's father." He replies, shaking her hand and closing the door behind him.

An hour later, the party is in full swing. The plate of brownies is gone (Megan complaining all the while that she'll be spending weeks at the gym for it) and Kylie's salsa is disappearing almost as fast. The boxes of pizza aren't far behind. Terry seems to be having the time of her life, explaining to the girls about the ongoing debate between us about the baby's name, and even my father is having a good time.

I stand in the doorway, plate in one hand, beer in the other, and survey the room. Charlie and Amita are sitting on the loveseat in front of the window, caught in a heated debate about something mathematical, but grinning all the while. Terry, Megan, and Kylie are taking up most of the couch, plates of food on their laps, heads together. Colby, David, and Dad are in the kitchen, eating chips and salsa straight from the bowl and arguing about football. I didn't even know my father liked football.

And it hits me. These people are more than just my coworkers, my acquaintances. They're my friends. And, together, we make up our own little family.

I touch the box in my sweatshirt pocket. Small, velvety, and square, just like every other time I've done this over the past couple of days. Getting Terry's ring size wasn't hard; I just went to Lara. Actually getting the ring on her finger was much more complicated.

Pushing that worry aside for now, I rejoin the party, determined to enjoy myself. And it isn't hard to do.

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Yay! Okay, the big three (Her Secret, Love Me, Love Me Not, and Second Shot) are done. Plus, you guys get a special little one-shot. 'course, you guys deserve a lot more than that for your patience with me, but I hope that'll help a little bit. -Puppy eyes- I love you!

The brownie thing came from personal experience—my best guy-friend from my first college semester made the absolute best chocolate brownies I've ever eaten in all my life. Megan's line, "I beg to differ. Those are some seriously good brownies. I could live on them." is credited to said best guy-friend's roommate's girlfriend (figure that one out), Jess.

I could just see Colby being the type who would make good brownies.

Thanks for all your patience. I will see you next week, I promise. No more 'I hopes' or excuses. I will be here weekly. Not every story will be updated weekly (I do still have this obnoxious thing called school to deal with), but I will update at least one story per week.

Keep checking my journal. I will try to update that each weekday (weekends I don't have internet access), so that should tell you what's going on with me.

Thanks for your patience, and I'll see you soon!

All my love,

Sila


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